The Kiss
by Socket-52
Summary: The kiss, when it happened, was fierce and frantic... and that's just the beginning of Bridget's troubles. Slightly AU. What could have happened if they'd had their first kiss while Bridget was still Franky's therapist.
1. Chapter 1

**Pairing:** Bridget/Franky

 **Timeline:** Set after 3x08: Goldfish

 **The Kiss**

The kiss, when it happened, was fierce and frantic.

Kim had accused her of screwing Franky, in front of everyone in group therapy, and the women's jeers and catcalls still rang in her ears. She'd felt humiliated. Exposed.

Franky stayed behind when the others had gone. She helped Bridget put the chairs and tables back.

Bridget couldn't look at her. She heard her heart drumming, felt the blush in her cheeks, knew she'd give herself away if she looked into Franky's eyes… those keenly perceptive eyes.

"Kim's an idiot. No one took her seriously," Franky said gently.

Bridget stacked the last chair and picked-up her notepad. She hazarded a glance at Franky. "Us being here alone won't help extinguish those rumours."

The brunette shrugged. "So? Who cares what they think."

And Bridget couldn't bring herself to admit that she didn't care what the other inmates thought but she did care that every time she was alone in a room with Franky it was getting harder to walk away, harder to restrain herself, harder to resist.

She clutched the notepad to her chest, as if for protection. "Be smart Franky," she warned.

Franky moved closer, too close. "I don't want to be smart. I want you. You feel it too, I know you do."

And there it was. Out in the open. Candid and intense. But that was Franky all through. Reckless and passionate and intoxicating.

The words hung between them. Airlessly. Franky's smouldering eyes burrowed into Bridget, who sucked in a sharp breath.

With all the self-control she could muster, Bridget turned and walked away - because she had to, because it was the right thing to do.

Before she reached the library door arms grabbed hold of her and span her round.

Franky's fevered lips impacted with hers… Bridget's notepad crashed to the floor and instinctively her hands were in Franky's hair, pulling her closer. Their bodies pressed flush against each other as Franky pined her up against a desk.

The kiss was fierce and frantic. A blur of limbs and tongues, expectation and longing.

Eager hands gripped Bridget's back, holding her tightly. She felt Franky's breasts press into her, felt her body respond… felt fingers digging into her skin, felt Franky's hips push urgently against her own.

One of Bridget's hands trailed down Franky's neck and slid down her side, tracing the curve of her waist and the outline of her hip. The other hand cupped Franky's face, deepening the kiss. Franky moaned into her mouth and Bridget burned with desire. She wanted this. She'd wanted it for so long.

Suddenly Franky slowed, softening the kiss – drawing it out. It was so tender, it took Bridget by surprise. Her mind scrambled to catch-up with what was happening… what she was letting happen. They weren't in private… anyone could walk in at any moment…

The room, and reality, slowly came back into focus and Bridget broke the kiss.

They pressed their foreheads together. Their breath coming as one; erratic and tremulous. This had been unavoidable.

"There. The world didn't implode, did it?" Franky whispered.

"Almost," Bridget whispered back.

Franky smiled.

Reluctantly they drew apart.

Bridget glanced down at the strewn pages of her notepad. She crouched down and began to gather them up. Franky knelt beside her, her fingers accidentally brushing Bridget's as they reached for a piece of paper simultaneously. Catching each other's eye, they smiled sheepishly. And for the first time Bridget allowed herself to think maybe, just maybe…

When all the papers were recovered, they stood up.

Bridget straightened her dress and smoothed her tousled hair with her hand. She peered down at herself, making sure she didn't look as chaotic as she felt.

"You look fine," Franky assured. "Mighty fine," she added teasingly as her eyes scanned the length of the psychologist's body. Her eyebrows rising suggestively.

Bridget tilted her head, an exasperated smile played on her lips. "Behave."

Franky smirked. "Where's the fun in that, Gidge?" and she ran her tongue provocatively across her bottom lip; her eyes never leaving Bridget's. She could still taste Bridget… that was going to drive her wild all day.

Then, sensing that now was not a time for flippancy, Franky reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind the blonde's ear. "There. Perfect." She murmured.

Franky felt Bridget tremble beneath her touch and it filled her with hope. An ambiguous hope. She didn't believe in happy endings and all that pipe-dream bullshit but Bridget was different. Bridget was a straight-shooter.

As they gazed at each other, Bridget didn't know what to say. Words suddenly seemed inadequate. So she smiled. That smile she only gave to Franky.

Bridget left the library first. Her lips still tingling from that blistering kiss and her mind reeling.

As Franky headed back to her unit, she couldn't hide her grin. Maybe she owed Kim a thank you rather than a bashing.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Kiss** **(Pt 2)**

Bridget hurried away from the library, away from Franky's penetrating eyes and hungry lips. She walked shakily down the corridor. Her skin was flushed and there was a knot in her stomach, she felt as if everyone she passed knew her secret.

When she reached her office Bridget locked the door and pulled the blinds. She poured herself a glass of water and gulped greedily, trying to steady her nerves. She sat in the dark, head pounding as her mind tried to catch-up with the clusterfuck of a morning she'd had.

 _Clusterfuck_. She almost smiled. Franky had taught her that word. Franky had taught her so many things.

How had she let this happen? Kissing a prisoner. It was a serious fucking misdemeanour! Was she out of her mind? Of course she was; Franky was driving her insane. Battering her defences, igniting her desires, making her forget protocol and misjudge situations and second-guess herself...

The kiss had been so startling and tender and passionate… and left Bridget wanting more. But that kiss had also started a shit storm; because now Bridget knew for certain what she'd only suspected: she had feelings for Franky. Feelings she could no longer deny or excuse or dismiss. Now she would have to deal with them; Bridget had never run from anything in her life and she wasn't about to start now.

In her long career, Bridget had never developed romantic feelings for a patient. Several patients had formed crushes on her – but it had never been reciprocated. Never. Until Franky.

 _Until Franky_ seemed to be her mantra these days.

Franky Doyle: infuriating, fascinating, beautiful and impulsive.

When Franky had kissed her, Bridget had felt relieved. Glad the tension had been broken and their attraction acknowledged. But kissing in the library was reckless behaviour; they could have been discovered.

"Stupid… stupid," Bridget chided herself aloud.

She covered her face with her hands. She had to think this through, had to strategize… had to figure a way to make it work.

* * *

After lunch Franky was in the exercise yard playing basketball, still contemplating that kiss, when Bridget passed by the fence on her way to a staff meeting. The blonde was in a world of her own, oblivious to the outside world.

Franky watched the psychologist walk past, her hips swaying and those tight, tight jeans hugging Bridget's perfectly sculpted backside.

Distracted, Franky didn't hear Sophie call out to her or see the ball as it lunged towards her head.

Her eyes were still on Bridget when the ball smacked her in the face. Her head snapped back on impact. Dazed, Franky reached up to touch her nose and looked down to see blood in her hand.

"Shit! Sorry!" Sophie apologised as she ran towards Franky.

Doyle heard laughter and turned to see Boomer standing by the benches, pissing herself laughing. Still stunned, Franky managed to stick her middle finger up at her former friend as Sophie gripped her arm and guided her towards Miss Bennett, who was on guard duty and had seen the whole thing.

Vinegar Tits let Franky go to the infirmary without argument.

* * *

Franky sat on the examination table, blood speckled her white vest and she had tissue up her nose to stop the bleeding.

Doctor Curtis examined her injury. "Well, the good news is it's not broken."

"Ripper," Franky replied flatly. The numbness began to subside and the pain started to creep in.

Doctor Curtis tipped her chin up and flashed a torch in her eyes, making sure she didn't have concussion. Her ears were ringing and her nose was throbbing.

"How's your vision? Seeing double? Blurry?"

"It's fine."

"Good."

He handed her paracetamol for the pain and a cup of water. Franky swallowed the pills gratefully.

There was an urgent knock at the door.

"I'm with a patient," Curtis called out.

"I know, can I come in?" It was Bridget's voice. She sounded strange.

Franky's heart soared at the prospect of being in close proximity to Gidget.

"If you don't mind waitin - " Curtis began.

Bridget rushed into the room and closed the door behind her.

Startled by this unexpected intrusion, Doctor Curtis turned towards her. "What are you - ?"

"I heard there was an incident in the yard and Doyle had been hurt…" Bridget's eyes instinctively drifted towards Franky over the doctor's shoulders, visibly calming when she saw that Franky was alright.

"As you can see she's fine," he placated.

"It's just… we had a group therapy session earlier and I wanted to make sure that violence hadn't escalated out of that. Can I talk to her?"

Curtis nodded. "Sure," and he sat down at his desk to fill in Doyle's injury report. His back turned to them.

Bridget moved in front of the inmate and when she was sure that Curtis wasn't watching, her hand lightly brushed Franky's knee. "You okay?" she asked.

Franky grinned. It would've been worth a broken nose just to see the anxious look on Bridget's face. She was worried: she cared. Franky's smile widened.

"Yep. Might need a few extra sleeps to restore my natural beauty, but I'm good."

Even with tissue stuffed up her nose and a large purple bruise forming under both eyes where the ball had struck her, Bridget still had the urge to ravish the brunette.

"I thought you were hurt… like, really hurt."

Franky shrugged. "It was an accident. I wasn't paying attention. A certain someone sauntered past the yard and their hotness distracted me."

Bridget tilted her head sideways and lowered her voice. "You've got to take better care of yourself - for my sake if not your own. I don't want to spend my time breaking-up fights and wheeling you out of hospitals. That's not the life I want."

Franky slipped her hand into Bridget's and squeezed. "Me either," she whispered.

The feel of Franky's fingers wrapped around her hand, soft but insistent; Franky's thumb gently stroking the back of her hand, made everything seem possible.

Heat rose in her skin at the contact. Bridget stepped back and Franky's hand fell away.

"I have a free session tomorrow, if you want it? To discuss… everything."

For Curtis's benefit Franky shrugged and replied casually. "Why not? Got nothin' better to do."

"2 O'clock," Bridget said, then turned and headed for the door. "Thanks," she called to Doctor Curtis, who looked up from his notes and nodded back.

As Bridget opened the door she glanced at Franky one last time to find the brunette staring intently at her. She felt jittery… wondering what in hell she was going to say to Franky tomorrow when they were alone.

She stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her. Feeling like this mess had only just begun.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Kiss (Part 3)**

Bridget sat at her desk, flicking her pen up and down erratically. Franky was due for their session any minute.

She hadn't slept much last night. She was anxious; she still didn't know how to say what she wanted to.

A knock interrupted her reverie.

"Come in," she called.

The door opened and Mr. Fletcher accompanied Franky into her office. He nodded politely at her, then headed out again.

Franky breezed over to her usual chair, plonked herself down and smiled at Bridget as if yesterday hadn't happened and for a moment, Bridget felt like she was losing her mind… like she'd imagined it all…

The door clicked shut behind Fletcher and Franky visibly tensed – her air of lightness gone.

Bridget took the seat opposite Franky and they gazed at each other. Silent and brimming with nerves.

Franky's bruises had come-up overnight, the purple marks under her eyes shimmered. She was still drop dead gorgeous and Bridget looked away.

Silence hung between them. An unwanted division.

Westfall couldn't bear the quietness any longer. "I don't know how to do this," she said bluntly. Her eyes lifting to meet Franky's.

Doyle's façade dropped. "Just be honest, Gidget."

The blonde nodded. She took a breath and then calmly said. "Yesterday shouldn't have happened. Not like that."

Franky's heart sank and instinctively she was out of her seat and on her knees before Bridget. She clasped the older woman's hands, desperate to make her see sense. "There's a spark between us that can't be ignored." Franky's eyes bore into her.

Bridget glanced furtively over at the window; checking no one had seen them.

"Franky!" she exclaimed as she pulled out of Doyle's grasp.

Bridget stood and brushed past the inmate. She crossed the room and hastily shut the blinds. Then turned to face Franky, her back pressed against the door. Fear and hope mingled on her face.

"I have feelings for you… but I can't do casual," she warned. "That's not how I'm wired. I'm in for the long haul or not at all."

Franky understood perfectly and she'd never been prepared to commit to one person, never wanted to settle down, until now. Visions of her and Gidget curled up on the sofa watching TV, arguing over the remote, spending lazy Sunday afternoons having a picnic in the park, going to restaurants to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries, filled her… sharing the same bed, waking up to Bridget every morning, maybe having children… who knows. And it scared the crap out of her, how quickly she couldn't imagine life without Bridget.

"I'm in for the long haul," Franky assured and got to her feet, her arms hanging helplessly by her side as she faced Gidget.

Bridget's shoulders slouched and in that moment, Bridget realised she had been afraid to hope for a future with Franky. But here she was – everything she'd hoped for was being offered to her. It was almost too much.

"Do you love me?" Franky asked.

"You know how I feel…"

Franky peered straight through Bridget. "Do I?" With that, Doyle strode across the room. She closed the distance between them and pulled Bridget into her arms. "Show me," Franky whispered and nipped the blonde's earlobe with her teeth.

Bridget shuddered with desire. She had to maintain control… she drew back so they were face-to-face. "We can't do this here."

Annoyance crowded Franky's delicate features. "You think this is just about sex?"

Bridget scowled. "You can't blame me for having reservations."

They both know Franky's reputation with the ladies. To ignore it would be been foolish on Bridget's part – she needed reassurance. Needed to know she wasn't just another of Franky's conquest; to be seduced and forgotten by next week.

Bridget leaned forward and kissed Franky roughly, to demonstrate that she wasn't playing; she was prepared to uproot her life for Frank and needed to know it was worth it.

Franky grasped Bridget to her and pressed her palms flat against the blonde's back as she returned the ferocity of the kiss.

Bridget ended the kiss abruptly and struggled to breathe…

Franky cupped Bridget's face. Peering into those doubtful eyes. They pressed their foreheads together and Franky traced the line of Gidget's jaw with her index finger.

"I've never been more serious," Franky promised.

Bridget didn't reply but Franky could tell she believed her. She hugged Bridget tightly to her and buried her face in Bridget's hair.

Gidget felt right.

"I want this just as badly," Bridget whispered, then drew back. Her eyes met Franky's and the world vanished. Sunlight streamed into the room, surrounding them… and she felt Franky breathe in time with her… felt her pulse race and her heart threaten to burst through her chest…

Summoning all her will power, Bridget stepped back. "We have to stop. We can't do this while you're my patient."

Franky smirked wickedly and slipped her hand around the base of Bridget's neck, pulling her into a fervent kiss.

An electric charge passed from Franky's body into hers. It ignited a fire in-between her legs and sent a shiver racing up her back.

"Stop," Bridget murmured as she placed her hands against Franky's shoulders and pushed her away. "We have to be patient." Bridget kept her gaze fixed on the younger woman. "Let me handle this my way, okay?"

Bridget's blue eyes shimmered and Franky felt herself tumble into them. She was a goner. A hopeless, dumbstruck goner.

Franky's expression was solemn as she said. "Okay. We'll do it your way."

Bridget smiled, one of those rare, incandescent smiles. "Some of what I'll need to do won't make sense to you but trust me. I'm doing this for us, okay?"

 _Us._ Franky beamed. Her whole body alight, the world suddenly luminous and full of infinite possibilities. The only person she trusted was Bridget. The only person she wanted was Bridget. She could hold on.

The blonde reached out and squeezed Franky's hand. She'd find a way to make this work. She had to.

A sharp knock at the door invaded their privacy.

Bridget let go of Franky's hand. "Yes?" she called, her professionalism snapping back into place.

Fletcher opened the door. Concern etched on his face. "Everything okay?" he asked and indicated the drawn blinds.

Bridget feigned an exasperated sigh as she pulled them open. "They keep closing of their own accord - got a mind of their own!"

Satisfied, Fletcher left.

Bridget and Franky sat opposite each other. Trying to contain themselves and desperately trying to appear normal to prying eyes.

Bridget's fingers itched to touch Franky. Her lips craved contact.

The inmate cocked her head sideways, knowing exactly what was running through Bridget's mind. She smiled teasingly. "What do you want to talk about today, Gidge? I could tell you all about this amazing woman I met…"

Bridget smiled.

* * *

Fletch leaned against the wall in the corridor outside Westfall's office and watched her session with Franky through the window. This would take the best part of an hour. He sighed.

He glanced at his watch, then down the hallway.

He was looking forward to lunch; he'd missed breakfast and his stomach was grumbling.

Miss Miles passed by and stopped for a brief natter – they discussed double shifts, parking and rugby results.

When she moved on, he glanced at Franky through the window, wearing her usual cocky grin and wondered what secrets Westfall could be coaxing out of her.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Sorry it took so long to update. Also, I'm happy to take prompts for this series - so if you have any suggestions, please send them to me.

 **Timeline:** 3x09: Freakshow

 **The Kiss (Pt 4)**

It was only 1 o'clock and Bridget was already having the day from hell; she wished she'd never got out of bed.

She'd woken with a sleepy contentment that vanished as soon as her eyes landed on the bedside clock - her alarm hadn't gone off and she'd overslept by an hour. She'd rushed into the shower to find her boiler had broken down. Still shivering from her icy cold shower, she'd knocked her coffee cup off the counter and it spilled into her briefcase and ruined several case files. In her rush to get out the door, she snagged her shirt on a door handle and ripped it beyond repair. By the time she pulled into the prison car park - all the spaces were taken, so she parked on the street and got a ticket.

The first thing Bridget did when she reached her office was call her boss and explain the situation with herself and Franky. She skimmed the finer details; he didn't need to know everything. Bridget cited Franky's romantic feelings as her reason for requesting a transfer and it made her feel like a traitor.

Her boss immediately assigned Franky to Chris Nyborg. Bridget knew him, he was a good therapist, which made her feel marginally less guilty. But as she hung-up, she still felt deflated; seeing Franky twice a week had been a luxury and now she'd have to invent reasons to see the inmate whilst they kept their relationship under wraps. But transferring her had been the only responsible thing to do. Bridget didn't want to compromise either of them; integrity was important to her.

As the day wore on things got steadily worse. Jodi Spiteri gouged a pencil into her own eye, Bridget had a nasty confrontation with Ferguson, was quizzed by the board as to why she hadn't seen Spiteri's breakdown coming and her brother called to tell her that their father's dementia was worse and it was time for him to be put in a nursing home.

As the day grew increasingly bleak, Bridget began to waver. Her intentions towards Franky were noble but right now she just wanted to run into Franky's arms and hide there a while.

* * *

Bridget ambled down the corridor, distracted and drained. Someone called her name. Bridget looked up to see Franky before her, standing still amidst the bustle of the corridor. The brunette was a vision. Fierce and strong. Her beautiful face etched with concern.

Upon seeing her, a smile broke across Bridget's face.

"I heard what happened with Jodi Spiteri. Are you alright?" Doyle asked.

"I am now," Bridget said softly.

Franky's scowl didn't abate. Gidget's demeanour told her something was wrong. Franky's stomach was in knots - she hated to see Bridget despondent. Her first impulse was to pummel the shit out of whoever or whatever had upset Gidget. Instead she tilted her head and gave a sharp jerk of her chin, indicating for Bridget to follow.

She strode off round the corner. Westfall's eyes casually swept the corridor to make sure she wasn't being watched and then she followed Franky.

The brunette led her to a secluded stairwell, half in shadow, hidden from security cameras and prying eyes.

Franky took Bridget's hand and gently pulled her beneath the stairs. They stood closely together, shrouded in darkness, in their own world. Bridget felt the gentle pressure of Franky's fingers touching her arm, felt the soothing brush of her thumb.

Bridget's facade wavered.

"What's wrong Gidge?"

On hearing Franky's nick-name for her, Bridget's tenacity dissolved and she moved into Franky's arms. She tucked her face into the crook of Franky's shoulder and closed her eyes. Doyle's arms wrapped protectively around her.

"Tough day?" Franky whispered.

"Mm-hm," Bridget murmured and breathed Franky in. She wished they were somewhere private, wished she could spend a lifetime in Franky's embrace.

Franky kissed the top of Bridget's head and rubbed Bridget's back comfortingly. The blonde felt lighter. Felt rejuvenated. This was the first time she'd allowed Franky to see her truly vulnerable. Franky didn't push – she was just there. A support, with or without words. It meant everything.

Bridget steeled herself and pulled out of Franky's arms, aware that if they stayed here much longer she might be missed. She had an appointment to get to. A veneer to maintain.

She gave Franky a grateful smile.

Franky grasped her hand and squeezed gently. She didn't want to let this moment go, didn't want Bridget to leave.

Reading her thoughts, Bridget whispered. "Soon, I promise."

Franky's eyes sparkled. All this waiting was torture but the promise of a future with Gidge was worth it. She just had to hold on a little longer. Had to bite-back her impatience.

Bridget ran her index finger the length of Franky's jaw, her eyes intense, then she spun on her heel and left the sanctuary of the stairwell. She felt fortified; Franky had done that. She smiled valiantly; ready for the onslaught of the outside world once more.

* * *

It was gone 4 o'clock when Bridget arrived at the staff party. It was Nell's leaving do – seven years as Admin Assistant. She was moving to Perth to be with her boyfriend and open an air-conditioning business.

Bridget headed straight for the refreshments table, picked-up a plastic cup and filled it with red wine. As she sipped the mediocre shiraz, she scanned the room. She didn't want to be here but Nell had always been friendly, so she had to put in an appearance. What Bridget really wanted to do was go home, crawl under her bedcovers and forget this day… well, accept for the _one_ good part… the Franky holding her part…

Her mind wondered back to that stairwell. When Franky had taken her hand, Bridget had needed contact, needed assurance, needed to anchor herself. They were in too deep. Tangled-up in stolen moments, shared secrets and silent understanding.

She drank her wine and tried to remember the last time she'd fallen asleep without Franky's image seared into her brain, imagining the feel of their bodies entwined, their lips fervent with passion, their breath hot and ragged as their hips rock in unison.

Bridget bit her lip, frustrated. It's always there… this urge, yearning, scratch… it was unquenchable.

Fletch moved beside her and began chattering on about some personal issue, Bridget was glad for the distraction. His words were like a cold shower.

* * *

Bridget was tipsy. She was on her third glass of wine but she'd missed lunch (drinking on an empty stomach wasn't the best idea she'd ever had but work was done for the day and after the shit storm she'd weathered, she'd allowed herself that extra glass). Now she was in a corner of the staff room making idle chit-chat with Miss Miles and secretly wondering what Franky tasted like.

Fantasies raced through her mind, starring one of Wentworth's most notorious inmates. Normally she shrugged them off, normally her common sense took hold - but alcohol fuelled her longing. Wanting Franky was like having an orchestra housed in her body; her heart drummed, a concerto strummed low in her belly and a tight strings plucked between her legs… a symphony that drowned out caution and threw-off her judgement.

Bridget resisted as long as she could, then decided a quick visit to H block wouldn't harm anyone. She just wanted to see Franky. That was all. She didn't have to touch her. Didn't have to kiss her. Nothing had to happen. She just wanted to hear that voice, see that face… feel like there was still something good in her life.

* * *

Franky lay sprawled-out on her bed, studying. She was struggling; the words swam in front of her eyes. Her mind was miles away; replaying the scene with Bridget under the stairs. Savouring the feel and smell of her in her memory.

She smiled to herself. For the first time she was grateful to be stuck in this godforsaken place - otherwise she'd never have met the irresistible Dr Westfall.

She was being given a chance, a real chance at happiness and for the first time, she wanted to grab onto it. This was the one thing in her stinkin' life she wasn't going to stuff-up.

She'd met her new psychologist today; Chris Nyborg. He was alright, for a quack. A little too serious and he didn't get her jokes, not like Gidge, but that was academic.

Officially, Franky was no longer Bridget's responsibility. Now they could be together without Bridget getting hung-up on professional conduct, the only down side was that she wouldn't be able to see Gidge as often as before.

Still. Whatever time they could steal together, Franky wouldn't waste. She was done throwing her life away.

Realising she'd read the same sentence five times Doyle sighed in annoyance. She cleared her head of the enticing blonde and forced herself to concentrate.

She was nearing the end of the chapter when there was a gentle knock on her door.

"What?" Franky bellowed. She was sick of being interrupted. Seemed that even though she was no longer top dog some of the women still needed her approval or insight into some petty bullshit problem.

"It's me," Bridget called softly.

Franky scrambled to her feet and yanked her cell door open, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe as her eyes settled on the blonde.

Bridget stood in the doorway holding a potted plant; a peace lily. Her blue eyes were sparkling. Her hair was loose and cascaded over her shoulders. She was gorgeous - flushed cheeks, ruby lips, all sleek and seductive in that silky blouse. Franky's heart stumbled in her chest.

Franky tried to appear cool but Bridget could read body language and was happy to discover that she had flustered Franky Doyle. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"What you doing round these parts? Got lost on your way to the lav?" Franky teased, trying to infuse lightness into the moment.

"Can I come in?" the psychologist asked, feeling bold.

Franky glanced down the corridor; it was empty. She stepped back. "Sure."

She was usually the one pushing boundaries, so this was a pleasant surprise. But then Gidget always disconcerted her; that was part of her allure. Franky liked the unpredictable - it made life interesting.

As Bridget entered Franky's cell the subtle fragrance of her perfume drifted to Doyle's nostrils. The jasmine and orange blossom scent was intoxicating and filled the confined space. She smelled so damn good it was maddening and made it impossible for Franky to think of anything other than ravaging Bridget right here, right now.

Doyle closed the door quickly, afraid Bridget would make a break for it if she had time to think this through.

She turned to face the blonde. There was a calm confidence in the psychologist, an easiness that had been missing for the last couple of days. Franky was glad to see it restored.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Franky said impishly. Bridget's eyes darted curiously around the cell. Feeling self-conscious, Franky shrugged. "You've caught me in the middle of redecorating. I'm going for the minimalist look."

Bridget laughed and held out the lily as an offering. "I come bearing gifts."

"This visit keeps getting better," the brunette exclaimed.

"I told them I was giving you the plant to encourage responsibility. So take good care of it."

Franky took the peace lily and grinned. "What if it dies?"

"Then your parole's screwed," Bridget retorted playfully.

Franky snorted, then said. "No worries. You gave it to me. It'll be the most pampered plant on the planet!"

Bridget smiled - that throwaway, heart-stopping smile - and Franky was sure she couldn't be mortal.

Doyle settled the plant pot down on the table already over-crowded with law books.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," Bridget apologised, indicating the textbooks and feeling that maybe she shouldn't have dropped by after all. She was being selfish; Franky had a lot on her plate - the last thing she needed was Bridget showing-up and muddying the waters.

Franky shrugged, right now studying was the last thing on her mind. "I'm glad you did."

Bridget cocked her head sideways, her eyes smoky and her lips quirking into a seductive smile that made Franky's entire body hum.

Bridget took a step towards Franky and noted the inmate's uneven breathing.

"I've been thinking about you," the blonde confessed, toying with a button on her jacket. Unconsciously tugging it. Her fingers itching to touch Franky. She licked her lips, trying to get a grip of her nerves and inadvertently driving Franky into a frenzy.

"Good thoughts I hope," Doyle said, her voice thick with desire as her gaze flitted from Bridget's eyes down to her mouth.

Bridget smirked. "Oh, very good."

"You've been on my mind too," Franky growled, her eyes wandering languidly down Bridget's body.

The sexual tension between them fizzed and shimmered. Hemming them in. It was hard to maintain control, hard to keep separate.

Bridget sucked in a deep breath and took a tentative step forward, moving closer to Franky. Heat radiated from Franky's body and invaded hers. Desire rushed through Bridget and she took the last forbidden step, closing the gap between them.

Their lips were mere inches apart. The room seemed to sway and Bridget gripped the edge of the table with one hand, to keep her balance. The other reached up and shakily brushed Franky's fringe out of her eyes.

Bridget's eyes fixed on Franky's. "I also wanted to give you this," and she lifted up on tip-toe and tilted forward, her left hand slid around Franky's neck and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. It was savage and infused with all the sexual tension she'd been storing up since she'd first laid eye on Doyle.

Franky grasped hold of Bridget's hips and pulled the blonde firmly against her. Their bodies pressed together as their kiss deepened. Franky sighed happily which made Bridget give a gentle moan - and all restraint was lost.

Franky's hands tangled in Bridget's hair, drawing her closer. As their mouths explored each other, their breathing becoming ragged and the world began to wane.

Bridget backed Doyle up against the sink, her hands roaming Franky's body. She wanted to cover Franky in caresses, wanted to feel every inch of her heated skin, wanted to delve deep into her, wanted to watch her tremble, wanted to hear Franky scream her name when she came.

Between kisses, Franky's hands slid beneath Bridget's jacket and up her sides, brushing against the silky material of Bridget's blouse. It felt amazing… soft and sultry… the heat thrown out by Bridget's body burned her fingertips through the silky material… Bridget's lips were urgent and demanding against her own - she tasted of wine and cherry lip gloss.

Doyle glided her hands up to Gidget's shoulders and pushed the jacket off her, temporarily breaking their kiss. The jacket tumbled to the floor and their lips crushed together once more.

Bridget exhaled sharply in-between long, languorous kisses as Franky's hands drifted down to Bridget's waist and tugged the silk blouse loose from her waistband. She wanted to free Bridget of all clothing - wanted to see every inch of her.

Bridget drew back and gripped the hem of Franky's tank top – impatiently pulling it up and over the inmates head. She tugged at the waistband of Doyle's tracksuit bottoms, then slid her hand beneath the elastic band and pushed them slowly downwards. The tracksuit bottoms fell to the floor and pooled at Franky's feet. Franky stepped out of them, leaving her in nothing but her lingerie. A lace trim burgundy set with a high leg. They both stilled.

Franky held her breath – momentarily self-conscious. She wasn't ashamed of her warrior scars but she wasn't proud either.

Bridget gazed at the expanse of toned muscles, soft flesh, tattoo's, shapely thighs and full breasts. Her breath caught in her throat. Franky was so gorgeous she didn't know if her heart could take it.

Bridget ran her fingertips across Franky's flat abdomen, skimming across the smooth skin, interrupted by two knife scars. She circled a yin and yang tattoo on the inmate's rib cage, just beneath Franky's left breast. She was perfect.

She saw goose bumps rise where she had touched and bent her head to kiss the spot with her mouth, then swirled her tongue over the sensitive area. Franky bit her bottom lip and exhaled through her nose.

"You're beautiful," Bridget murmured and raised her head, she reached up and her thumb grazed Franky's bottom lip before pulling her into a heated kiss.

Bridget's nipples pebbled beneath her shirt, they strained against the soft fabric covering her chest and she moaned when Franky reached up and gently cupped her breasts, fondling her through the silky material. Then the brunette rubbed her thumb across a hardened nipple.

Franky drew back. "That feel good?" she whispered against the blonde's lips.

"Yes," Bridget moaned, her eyes wild, her pupils dilated.

Bridget felt Franky's hands on her, stripping her.

Franky wanted to feel Bridget's skin against her own. She castoff Bridget's shirt and unzipped her pencil skirt. Tugging it down her hips and letting it fall to the floor. Bridget kicked it aside, then wrapped her arms around Franky's s neck, pressing her body flush against Doyle's.

Franky's fingertips whispered over Bridget's skin, exploring… supple and smooth… her caress slowed as Bridget's fingertips gently pushed the thin strips of her bra down her shoulders, slipping her hands expertly behind Franky and undoing the clasp. The bra fell away and Bridget drank in the exquisite view.

Bridget dipped her head, the next thing Franky knew blonde hair was tickling her skin as Bridget's tongue swept along the curve of her breast. Bridget kissed and licked her way around Franky's left breast, after several torturous moments, the tip of her tongue finally skimmed across her raised nipple, raising a moan from the brunette before Bridget took a nipple into her mouth and gently sucked it, then used the edge of her teeth to bite firmly.

Franky shivered and felt Bridget smile against her. The blonde raised her head and the sheer lust-filled look Bridget gave her made her core throb.

Bridget kissed Franky's neck, trailing kisses across her collar bone; her hot breath flowed over the brunette's heated flesh as her lips ghosted down Franky's chest.

This wasn't going as Franky planned… she'd thought Bridget would be the submissive one… it was a pleasant surprise… and she couldn't think straight… everything was blurring… intemperate heat and soft lips… and she wanted Bridget so badly…

Bridget's hands drifted down Franky's back and across her ribs as she licked and nipped Franky's skin with her teeth. She moved tantalizingly slowly down her chest. Then lowered herself to her knees as her tongue circled lightly around Franky's belly button.

Franky shut her eyes tightly as sensations overloaded her body. She let out a low groan in anticipation.

Bridget glided her hands up the backs of Franky's thighs, her mouth inches from Franky's centre… her warm breath teasing Franky every time she exhaled. Bridget cupped Franky's pert backside and squeezed.

"Are you ready for me?" Bridget asked huskily.

"Yes," Franky murmured.

Bridget got to her feet and kissed Franky urgently, she kept her hands on Franky's ass and lifted her up – so she was perched on the sink. Franky draped her arms around Bridget, their lips never breaking as Bridget moved between Franky's legs, kissing her deeply and gripping her thighs. She pressed herself against Franky's core and smiled against Franky's lips as the inmate trembled.

Franky wrapped her legs around Bridget's waist and pulled her closer. Their foreheads pressed together and their breaths mingled.

"You're killing me here, Gidge," Franky whispered.

"Good, you've been driving me crazy for months."

Franky skimmed her hands down Bridget's sides and felt the blonde tremble. Her mouth travelled down Bridget's throat, her teeth scraping and nipping as her tongue stroked and tasted Bridget's salty, sweaty skin.

Bridget tilted her head back, giving Franky more access. She closed her eyes and groaned.

The sound ignited a fire beneath Franky, who cupped Bridget's face, pulling her back into a blistering kiss.

Bridget slid her hand between them, feeling the heat of Franky's sex beneath the flimsy material of her underwear. She was soaked. Her breath ragged, her heart pounding. Bridget's fingers rubbed against the flimsy material, eliciting a sharp gasp from Franky.

Doyle's head dropped back as the tip of Bridget's fingers ghosted over the thin cotton covering her centre. "Oh!" she moaned.

Bridget leaned in, her lips close to Franky's ear as she continued to caress her intimately. "You want it slow and gentle? Or hard and fast?" her hot breath fanning across Franky's bare skin, making it almost impossible to think.

"Hard and fast," Franky hissed.

Obediently, Bridget slid her right hand up, along the insides of Franky's creamy thighs. Gently pushing her legs further apart. She kept her eyes fixed on Franky's as her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her underpants and reached Franky's core. Right where she needed her the most. The blonde teased Franky's slick lips open. Using firm strokes, she circled Franky's clit, then trailed deft fingers downwards towards her entrance and buried two fingers deep inside Franky.

Franky whimpered, she stretched and expanded, accommodating Bridget. Bridget's fingers slid out, then dove back into Franky repeatedly. She set a steady, fast-paced rhythm and Franky's body strained against her.

She slid her other hand between them and her thumb worked circles around Franky's clit. Her eyes never left Franky's; those intense brown orbs staring back at her as Doyle's hips returned the thrusts of Bridget's hand.

Franky began to pant as her body trembled. "Harder," she sobbed.

Bridget slid three fingers inside, eliciting a low moan from Franky. Her thumb rubbed against Franky's clit relentlessly.

"Like this?" Bridget murmured in her lover's ear as she pumped her hand harder.

Franky cried out, throwing a hand out against the wall to brace herself while Bridget pounded against her, plunging into her harder and faster.

"Is this how you like it?" Bridget teased.

Franky rode Bridget's fingers hard and felt the tension build. Beginning in her toes and unfurling through her whole body.

"Yes!" Franky managed.

Then Bridget hit a delicious spot deep inside her and Franky arched. Bridget pushed deeper and curled her fingers, rubbing hard against that secret spot… a sigh escaped Franky as Bridget's mouth lowered and latched onto a hardened nipple. She flicked her tongue across it.

Franky was so close now, she whimpered, unable to control her breathing. Fireworks went off behind her eyelids. All she could think about was how good Bridget's hand felt buried between her legs. Damn, no one had touched her like this before…

"Oh!" Franky groaned.

Her breathing was laboured… the burning in her loins was unbearable as Bridget delved further into her, wild and fast… Franky felt her climax building, felt the familiar tingles spread through her body… felt her body tightening around Bridget's fingers.

Franky rested her head against Bridget's shoulder and bit down into Gidge's soft flesh, stifling the whimpers that were trying to escape and branding Gidge. She didn't want Bridget touching anyone else like this. Her walls clenched around Bridget's fingers and she shook, Bridget thrust into her fiercely. Franky bit down on her lip to keep from crying out.

Then Bridget's teeth scraped her collarbone and the blonde whispered huskily. "Come for me."

That threw Franky over the edge. As Franky's orgasm hit, her walls clenched around the blonde's skilful fingers. Her eyes snapped shut with the force of the pleasure rippling through her. She clutched onto Bridget as her body quivered. She opened her mouth to scream but Bridget captured her lips with a passionate kiss that muffled the cry.

As Franky's orgasm rolled through her, Bridget didn't let up her movements - her hand continued its furious pace.

Their lips parted. Franky's breathing was short and sharp.

"Stop… I can't… again…" Franky wailed.

Bridget ignored her protests and Franky went rigid again, her walls clenching even harder around Bridget's fingers. Franky shook and shuddered. She cried Bridget's name as she came a second time and squeezed her eyes shut. Her juices gushed over Bridget's fingers and she suddenly went slack.

Bridget smiled with satisfaction as her hand gently eased its ministrations, then stopped.

As Franky came down from the high, Bridget kissed her temple affectionately. "That was incredible," the blonde whispered.

Slowly, Bridget drew her fingers out of Franky. She met Franky's fiery gaze and raised her slick fingers to her mouth, slowly sucking them clean.

Franky's grip on the sink tightened as she watched breathlessly.

"Shit, Gidge…" Franky sighed through broken breathes, her chest heaving as her heart tried to steady itself.

Bridget smiled sassily. "I'm more than just a pretty face you know."

Franky smiled and regaining her strength, trailed her index finger seductively across Bridget's bottom lip.

There was no pretence between them now. No false pride. And for the first time in her life; Franky felt content. Here in Bridget's arms, skin touching skin… everything seemed to make sense.

She traced Gidge's jaw lightly. "Your turn," she said playfully and waggled her eye brows.

Franky slid off the sink and pushed Bridget backwards, towards the bed. She wasn't going to let Gidget get away with having all the fun.

She lay Bridget down on the mattress and wedged a knee between the blonde's legs, pushing her thigh forcefully against Bridget's core. Bridget was drenched and sighed with anticipation. Franky smiled and dipped her head to offer a scorching kiss to Bridget's lips.

Bridget rocked her body against Franky's, pressing her centre against Franky's firm thigh. Franky kissed her urgently, her tongue dipping into the blonde's mouth unrelentingly.

Bridget's hands reached up and encircled Franky's neck, drawing her closer. She grinded up, against Franky's thigh. Franky felt her thigh dampen with the proof of Bridget's desire and whispered words of encouragement into Bridget's ear as she trailed kisses up the psychologist's throat.

Bridget let out a hoarse cry, urging Franky on.

Franky's fingers caressed every inch of skin she could reach. Bridget throbbed against her, her movements becoming frantic as she rubbed harder and more urgently against Franky's thigh… desperate for release… as she neared orgasm, Franky felt the tension crescendo and then explode… Bridget's nails dug into her back as she struggled to stay quiet. The blonde closed her eyes tightly, her lips parted and she grunted as Franky surged against her repeatedly. Pressing against her core. Meeting her thrust-for-thrust… and then Bridget went rigid. Her head fell back, her back arched and her mouth opened in a silent cry.

Then she slackened in Franky's arms and collapsed back against the mattress. Franky covered Gidget in kisses and nestled her face against her neck, murmuring. "Spectacular!"

* * *

They lay in each other's arms, spent. Coated in sweat and breathing heavily. Franky idly traced circles on Bridget's back and kissed the blonde's temple. Bridget felt heavenly in her arms. The perfect fit. She didn't believe in soulmates but Bridget was starting to change her mind.

She knew Bridget would have to leave soon but she wanted to lie here forever… languid and peaceful… and fall asleep, limbs tangled together, Bridget's head against her shoulder. Franky has never wanted someone to stay before. Now she'd give anything for that.

She listened to Bridget's gentle breathing and it hurts… it actually fucking hurts to be this close to her and know it will end soon.

"I have to go…" Bridget whispered regretfully.

Franky's stomach churned.

Bridget sat up and slid her feet to the cold floor. Franky watched Bridget's body as she gathered her clothes and began to dress.

Reluctantly Franky got out of bed and put her prison uniform back on.

"When will I see you again?" Franky asked, pulling Bridget into her arms.

Bridget slid her arms around Franky's neck. "Soon," she promised and gave Franky a soft, lingering kiss.

They didn't hear the door open.

"Hey Franky, you're late for your shift - " Boomer grumbled, stopping dead at the sight that greeted her.

Franky and Bridget pulled apart, disentangling themselves, but not fast enough.

Franky folded her arms across her chest, trying to act casual as she faced Boomer.

Boomer stood awkwardly in the doorway. She blinked a couple of times, not sure she'd seen what she'd seen. She glanced at Franky's bed, saw the crumpled sheets and slowly, a smug grin crept across her face.

"Hey Doc," Boomer greeted Bridget. "Didn't expect to see you here. What are you guys up to?" she asked innocently.

Bridget's expression was one of practised calm. She glanced nonchalantly at Franky. "I'll leave you to get on." She moved around Boomer and stepped out into the hall. "Don't forget to water the lily."

"Righto," Franky called after her, knowing they weren't fooling Booms for a second.

The sound of Westfall's heels echoed down the corridor, growing fainter.

Franky's nervousness reared-up and silently she cursed Boomer. If Bridget got into trouble over this she'd -

"Next time put up a _Do Not Disturb_ sign or somethin'," Boomer teased.

Franky rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

Boomer shrugged. "Bet she's no good in the sack anyways. Too skinny." She leaned her weight on her left hip. "You'd better get your arse down the kitchen, you're late for your shift."

Franky sighed and set off towards the kitchen. She hoped Boomer would keep her mouth shut but knew it was unlikely. _Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck!_


End file.
